The gala finally ended a little after midnight.

By then, the ballroom had dissolved into the usual late-night chaos of wealthy men pretending they weren’t drunk and dangerous women pretending they weren’t bored. Empty champagne glasses littered silver trays while exhausted musicians continued playing soft jazz beneath the chandeliers.

Valentina stood near the front entrance of the mansion, slipping black silk gloves over her hands as snow drifted beyond the iron gates outside.

The city looked beautiful from a distance.

It always did.

New York hid its rot well.

A member of the household staff approached carefully. “Mrs. Moretti, your car is ready.”

Valentina nodded once and glanced toward the ballroom instinctively, searching for Luca. She spotted him near the far bar with two politicians and a brunette young enough to still believe powerful men were romantic.

Of course.

Her husband noticed her looking and raised his whiskey glass casually in acknowledgment before returning his attention to the brunette’s mouth.

Valentina looked away first.

Some humiliations stopped hurting once they became routine.

She stepped toward the doors, but before she reached them, another voice interrupted calmly behind her.

“I’ll be escorting you home tonight.”

The voice was low and steady, carrying the kind of restraint that immediately drew attention without trying to.

Valentina turned.

Adrian Volkov stood several feet away beneath the warm entrance lighting, dark coat buttoned neatly against his broad frame. Without the noise and glamour of the ballroom surrounding him, he looked even more intimidating now. Less like security and more like someone accustomed to surviving very violent places.

Snowflakes melted slowly in his dark hair before sliding down the sharp edge of his jaw.

His expression remained unreadable.

Valentina studied him for a moment. “What happened to the rest of Luca’s security team?”

“They’re still here.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

One corner of Adrian’s mouth shifted almost imperceptibly, though it never fully became a smile.

“Luca reassigned your detail.”

“My detail?” Valentina repeated softly. “I didn’t realize I had become important enough to require one.”

“You are important enough that someone may try to hurt you.”

There was no drama in the way he said it. No attempt to frighten her.

That made the statement significantly worse.

The front doors opened as Adrian stepped aside to let her pass first. Cold winter air swept through the entrance hall immediately, carrying the sharp scent of snow and exhaust from the waiting convoy outside.

Black SUVs lined the circular driveway with headlights glowing against the storm.

Valentina walked toward the nearest vehicle while Adrian remained one pace behind her.

Not close enough to crowd her.

Not far enough to lose control of the perimeter.

She noticed things like that automatically.

The spacing.

The constant scanning.

The way his attention never settled fully in one place.

Military training lived inside his body whether he wanted it there or not.

One of Luca’s regular guards moved to open the SUV door, but Adrian stopped him with a quiet look before checking the interior himself. His eyes swept across the seats, floorboards, windows, and dashboard with practiced efficiency.

Only after inspecting everything did he nod once toward her.

“You can get in.”

Valentina paused beside the open door. “You inspect every vehicle personally?”

“Yes.”

“You expecting someone to plant a bomb?”

Adrian met her gaze evenly. “I expect people to be creative.”

Something about the answer unsettled her.

Not because it sounded paranoid.

Because it sounded experienced.

She slid into the back seat without another comment. Adrian entered beside her a moment later, shutting the door quietly as the convoy pulled away from the mansion gates and disappeared into Manhattan traffic.

For several minutes, silence filled the SUV.

Outside the tinted windows, the city glowed beneath falling snow. Neon reflections shimmered across wet pavement while taxis drifted through intersections like yellow ghosts. Somewhere farther downtown, police sirens echoed faintly through the winter night.

Valentina crossed one leg over the other and glanced toward Adrian beside her.

He sat perfectly still despite the movement of the vehicle, one hand resting near the inside of his coat. Watching the mirrors. Watching intersections. Watching every car that came too close.

“You don’t relax much, do you?” she asked eventually.

“I relax when things are safe.”

“And are they?”

“No.”

The answer came too quickly to be rehearsed.

Valentina studied him more carefully. Up close, she noticed details hidden beneath the polished appearance from earlier in the evening. The faint scar disappearing beneath his collar. The roughness across his knuckles. The tiny pale mark near his temple that looked suspiciously like an old bullet graze.

This was not a man who learned violence secondhand.

“You worked private military before this?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“American contractor?”

“No.”

“Russian?”

“Ukrainian.”

The accent was subtle, but now that she listened closely, she could hear traces of Eastern Europe hidden beneath the controlled tone of his voice.

“You’ve killed people,” she said quietly.

Most women would have avoided asking directly.

Valentina never saw the point in dancing around ugly truths.

Adrian finally looked at her fully.

The city lights passed across his gray-blue eyes in shifting flashes of gold and shadow.

“Yes.”

No hesitation.

No guilt.

No performance.

Just honesty.

Oddly enough, that honesty frightened her more than denial would have.

“And now you protect mafia wives for money?”

“I protect whoever I’m assigned to protect.”

The wording caught her attention immediately.

Assigned.

Not loyal to.

Not working for.

Assigned.

Interesting.

Before she could respond, Adrian’s gaze suddenly shifted toward the side mirror.

The change in him was immediate and subtle at the same time. His posture remained outwardly calm, but the atmosphere inside the SUV tightened almost invisibly.

Valentina followed his line of sight.

A black motorcycle had turned onto the street behind the convoy.

At first glance, nothing unusual.

But Adrian kept watching it.

Carefully.

The motorcycle stayed three vehicles back through one intersection, then two.

Adrian touched the earpiece hidden beneath his collar. “Possible tail behind us. Black Ducati.”

The driver acknowledged instantly through comms.

Valentina felt her pulse quicken slightly, though years around dangerous men had taught her how to keep fear from reaching her face.

The motorcycle accelerated suddenly.

Everything happened fast after that.

Adrian grabbed her without warning and pulled her sharply downward just as a gunshot exploded through the night.

Glass shattered behind them.

The SUV swerved violently across the street while the security convoy accelerated around them in aggressive formation.

Another shot cracked somewhere outside.

The driver cursed under his breath.

Adrian kept one arm firmly across Valentina’s ribs, shielding her against his chest while watching the rear window with terrifying focus.

“Stay down,” he said calmly.

Calmly.

As though bullets were simply another inconvenience.

The convoy tore through an intersection at dangerous speed before finally losing the motorcycle somewhere deeper in traffic.

Silence returned slowly after that.

Only the sound of the engine remained.

Valentina became aware of Adrian’s hand still pressed against her side.

Warm.

Steady.

Protective.

He released her immediately the second he noticed.

“Sorry.”

The apology sounded unfamiliar coming from him, as if he rarely had reason to say it.

Valentina sat upright slowly, smoothing her dress while trying to ignore the adrenaline still racing beneath her skin.

Outside, snow continued falling over Manhattan as though nothing had happened at all.

Adrian checked the shattered rear glass once before turning toward her again.

“You should start carrying a weapon, Mrs. Moretti.”

Valentina met his gaze calmly despite the pounding of her heartbeat.

“Maybe I already do,” she replied.